inking it was more upper-class tricks.

Five rough-looking men emerged from a grove of alders which grew about
the building.

The young girls were really frightened this time. No sophomore could
disguise herself like this. These were undoubtedly genuine ruffians of
the worst type, hungry, blear-eyed and ragged.

"What shall we do?" whispered Jessica, clinging to Grace desperately.

"Everybody run," answered her friend, trying to be calm as the five men
advanced on them. But when they broke away to run toward the distant
road they found their retreat cut off by the tramps, who were active
enough as soon as the girls showed signs of flight. Back of them lay the
dense woods into which the sophomores must have plunged and departed for
town by another road. Seeing that escape was impossible, since, if some
got away, others would be caught--and no girl was willing to desert her
friends--the frightened plebes paused again and clustered about their
leader.

"What do you want?" asked Grace of one of the men.

"First your money, then your jewelry," answered the tramp, insolently
leering at her.

"But suppose we haven't any money or jewelry," replied Grace.

"So much the worse for you, then," answered the tramp in a threatening
tone.

"He can have this gold bracelet," exclaimed Jessica, slipping the band
from her arm.

But Grace was not listening. Her attention was absorbed by a group of
people passing in a straggling line on the road. Lifting up her voice
she gave the High School yell, which had been familiar to every High
School boy and girl for the last twenty years:

"Hi-hi-hi; hi-hi-hi; Oakdale, Oakdale, HIGH SCHOOL!"

As she expected, the call was answered immediately, and some of the
loiterers along the highway vaulted the fence at one bound.

"Help!" cried all the girls in chorus. "Help! Help!"

"It's some of the High School boys!" exclaimed Nora, in a relieved voice
as the rescuers came bounding through the orchard.

The tramps looked irresolute for a moment, but when they saw that the
newcomers were five boys they held their ground.

"What do you want?" said the tallest boy, with a flaming head of red
hair, as he confronted one of the tramps.

"Thank heaven it's Reddy Brooks, pitcher on the sophomore baseball
team!" whispered Grace, unable to conceal her joy.

"Is that any of your business, young man?" demanded the tramp, showing
his teeth like an angry dog.

"It's my business to protect these you